I Don't Wanna Die
by letmefallasleep
Summary: Hyde wasn't one of those kids who rebelled for the sake of rebelling. He had more important things to worry about. Like surviving. Was 'I Screamed, No One Hears Me'. Warning: drug use, abuse, etc.  eventual Jackie/Hyde
1. Where's Your Home?

A/N: Ok, here is the first chapter, edited, and redone. Thank you so much to Sea Bur (my awesome beta). : ) Thanks for reading.

Thirteen year old Hyde sighed at the noises coming from the next room over; the sighs, moans, and worst of all the grunts. Despite his best efforts, the noises fought their way into his head, through the paper-thin walls, through the pillow and blanket he'd pulled over his head, and into his ears, just as they'd done every night since his father had left six years ago. Before his father leaving, it'd been screaming and arguing, his parents bellowing as they beat on each other all night.

Lying there at three o'clock in the morning, head throbbing in rhythm with banging of the bed frame against the wall, he debated on which was worse: the sounds of the pain or the sounds of pleasure. Either way, he knew he had to do something to cut through the noise, or he'd go insane.

He grimaced as he reached under the bed, and pulled out his bag of weed and his pipe. He wished he had something stronger – his mother's heroin or cocaine would be great, but she had her stash in the bedroom with her – however the pot would just have to do. He hated the drugs, hated not being in control, but sometimes it was just... necessary. So he lit the pipe, and in no time at all, had finished the bowl. Floating in a drug induced haze, he was almost asleep when...

"Steven!"

His mother's shrill voice cut through his high like a razor blade. Hyde slowly opened one eye, and glared at his mom for a moment, before closing it again. She stood in his door, naked except for her bathrobe that hung open, a cigarette in one hand, a beer in the other. Hyde shook his head, but answered anyway.

"Yeah, ma?"

"Head over to Ronny's. He's got a package for me."

Hyde sighed again, as his high vanished instantly. "It's three in the mornin', ma. I've got school tomorrow." At his mother's no-nonsense look, he hung his head. "We have money to pay him?"

Edna Hyde scoffed, and gave him the look that said she couldn't believe how stupid he was. "He expects you there at four. An hour for an eight-track. Make sure you're back and cleaned up in time for school. And weigh it this time!" She snapped over her shoulder.

Hyde nodded at his mother's back, as she disappeared back into her bedroom, and the noises resumed. After the ass-whooping he'd gotten from his mother's boyfriend last time, he'd triple-weigh the damn thing, and Ronny could go to hell if he didn't like it. Although it really wasn't fair; he was lucky he'd even made it home with the package last time, forget about taking the time to weigh it. Shit, he'd been in so much pain after leaving Ronny's last time that the older man could have given him sugar in a baggie, and Hyde wouldn't have known.

"Make sure you wear something clean!"

Hyde cringed at his mother's order, given in a high soprano that let him know the night was only starting. There'd be no sleep when he got back, not if she meant to keep that up. Of course, there was always the possibility of Ronny giving another concussion, but even then, there was a chance Edna's noises could keep him awake.

_Something clean, something clean_... Hyde searched around his bedroom for the least dirty clothing he owned, since he didn't really have anything "clean." His mother hadn't done laundry in over a month, and Hyde didn't have the money for detergent, even if he had gotten the desire to leave the sanctity of his bedroom and join Edna and her boyfriend in the kitchen. So most, if not all, of his clothing smelled like pot, cigarettes, beer, and sex.

For a while, he'd entertained the idea of asking Mrs. Forman if she'd do a load of laundry for him, but that would lead to questions that he didn't want to answer and the pitying looks she'd give him for the next few weeks, the looks that always made Hyde feel about two foot tall.

Fifteen minutes later, Hyde was showered and standing in front of the mirror, taking in the sight of himself.

His hair - that his mother oh-so-affectionately called his dirty, nappy 'fro - hung limply, still dripping water. He hung his head over the sink, and shook it fiercely, trying to get most of the water out, before brushing his teeth, wincing at the pain from his loose tooth, another gift from Curt, his mother's latest boyfriend. Bruises dotted his body here and there, along with a large black eye and dark bags under the other from lack of sleep.

_Just four more years_ , he thought as he pulled on his jeans, a long-sleeved undershirt, and a flannel over-shirt. Four more years, then he'd be able to leave. He'd never have to see Edna, Ronny, or the boyfriends again. Just four more years. Then he could go. He could forget it all, in four more years.

_If he lived that long._


	2. If I Survive, I'll See You Tomorrow

God it was cold. Hyde wished Edna would have let him have his freakin' jacket, but she 'didn't want him looking like trailer trash'. Hyde snorted to himself. Like Ronny would care anyways. The guy made cockroaches look clean.

He lit a cigarette, before shoving his hands back into his pocket, and taking a drag. It was a little over three miles to Ronny's house in down town, but heaven forbid Edna give up ten minutes of sex with a stranger to make sure her kid didn't get frostbite.

_But then how would she pay for it? _That nagging little voice asked.

Hyde scowled, kicking out at a mound of snow. Stupid Edna. Stupid Ronny. Stupid snow. Stupid... everything!

"Steven?"

Hyde jumped nearly a foot in the air, and had his switchblade out in a heart beat, before he saw Mrs. Forman.

"Jes -Jeepers, Mrs. Forman, what are you doin' out?" He asked, stepping towards the car.

"I just finished the swing shift at the hospital. What are _you _doing out? It's twenty-two degrees out, and you don't even have a jacket on! Come on, get in, I'll take you home," The older woman said with a smile, opening the door.

Hyde hesitated. "Uh... I'm not goin' home, Mrs. Forman. I'm goin' over to a friend's house."

Her eyebrows went up an inch, and Hyde reminded himself again, that despite her simpleton house wife act, Kitty Forman was pretty damn smart, unfortunately.

"You're walking to a friend's house at three thirty in the morning?"

"Uh... Yeah. You know, Edna decided to leave, and I didn't really feel comfortable in the house by myself, so... I'm goin' to a friend of my ma's to stay the night. She'll be back tomorrow night, but... well, you know the type of neighborhood I live in. Don't feel safe alone at night," Hyde babbled, backing away from the car. He had less than half an hour to get to Ronny's, and if Mrs. Forman wasn't gonna take him, he'd have to run to make it through all this snow on time. And if he wasn't on time, his mother had promised Ronny an extra hour.

Mrs. Forman sighed. "Well... come on, get in. I'll take you to your friend's. Which way am I going?"

"Downtown. I'll have you drop me off at Cruchton and First. It's about five minute walk from there," Hyde said, buckling his seat belt as he put the window down to flick his cigarette.

"I can take you all the way, honey. And you shouldn't be smoking, you know that," She said with a frown.

Hyde laughed bitterly. "Trust me, Mrs. Forman. I'll be lucky if it's the smoking that finally kills me. And you can drop me off at Cruchton and First. It ain't safe to go much further without somebody who knows the area."

"Steven... Is everything alright? At home, I mean."

"Yeah, it's fine, Mrs. Forman. Just like normal. Edna will be back in a day or two. Not a big deal."

Mrs. Forman sighed. "You know you're always welcome at our house, Steven."

"Yeah, I know."

They were silent, until she dropped him off at the corner, just like he'd asked.

"You be careful, Steven. If you need me, you know our number."

Hyde smiled at her. "Yeah, I know. I'll be fine, Mrs. Forman. Don't worry."

Mrs. Forman returned his smile with a sad smile of her own. "I always worry about you, Steven."

As he closed the door, he heard her quietly say, "Someone has to."

* * *

Hyde sighed as he walked up to the sixth story of Ronny's apartment building. He knew Mrs. Forman cared about him; more than she should, in fact. His own mother didn't give a rat's ass about him until she needed her drugs. But he knew part of Mrs. Forman's 'caring' was a lot of 'pity'. And he couldn't stand pity. Anger, disgust, loathing, hatred... any of those, he could fight those. He could keep his head held high. But pity... All he could do was slink away in shame.

He sighed again as he knocked on the door, and mentally braced himself as the door swung open

Ronny had been his mother's dealer for as long as Hyde could remember, and he'd never once seen the guy clean. He was always greasy, and almost slimy. His long black hair hung in a limp, nasty pony tail. He was the only full grown adult Hyde knew who still had acne. He was tall and thin, the way drug dealers were always portrayed in the movies on TV. But nothing Hyde had ever seen on TV compared to Ronny.

The older man smiled, and showed his missing teeth. " 'Bout time, boy. Ten minutes later, and I wouldda gotten another hour free."

Hyde sighed as he stepped inside. "Ma says I gotta weigh it. Twice," He said, his voice dead-pan.

Ronny swatted the back of his head, making him tumble into the apartment. "What, you don't trust me, boy?"

Hyde quickly righted himself, trying to turn to face Ronny as quickly as he could, without being obvious. "Look, Ronny... You know I trust you," He said with a nervous laugh. "But Edna, man... You know how she is... It was four grams off, and she went nuts, ya know? And I don't want her gettin' mad at me again, Ronny. I mean... I know you didn't cheat her, but... You _know_ how she gets, man."

Ronny glared at Hyde for a moment, before laughing as he closed the door. "Yeah, boy, your ma's psycho. Probably was so fucked up she couldn't read the numbers right. But whatever you gotta do. We'll weigh it, then get started."


	3. Just Let Me Die

A/N: Thank you SO much to christineexx for reviewing, and making me decide to continue. :D

* * *

_Ronny glared at Hyde for a moment, before laughing as he closed the door. "Yeah, boy, your ma's psycho. Probably was so fucked up she couldn't read the numbers right. But whatever you gotta do. We'll weigh it, then get started."_

Tamra, Ronny's wife, grimaced as she helped Hyde up off the floor, and quietly motioned for him to to follow her into the kitchen, and got him set up with a soda and some chips at the table.

"He passed out?" She whispered.

Hyde nodded, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand. "Yeah. He did three lines. You're probably good for the night," He said, fighting to keep the sting out of his words.

Tamra sighed as she wiped his face with a wet towel, before handing him a rag for his nose. "I'm sorry, Hyde. I – Oh, Jesus, Hyde, did Ronny do that?" She gasped, looking at his bare chest

Hyde glanced down at the cigarette burns that covered the upper part of his chest. "Nah. That was Edna. No worries, though: 'Uncle' Curt was there to make sure things didn't get out of hand," He mumbled bitterly.

"Well, come on. Let's get you in the bathroom; I'll get you cleaned up before you get an infection or something."

Hyde stood, took a moment to get his balance, and then shook his head. "Nah, I've gotta get goin'. Otherwise Edna's gonna kill me. You got a jacket I can borrow or somethin'?"

Tamra nodded, and disappeared into the bedroom for a moment, before coming back with a large black hoodie. "You good to get home?" She asked worriedly, handing him the tattered remains of his tee shirt and the hoodie as she avoided looking at his chest again.

"Yeah. I only had half a line. I'm good," He lied, opening the door quietly. "I'll see ya later, Tammy."

"You be careful, Hyde."

"Yeah, right," Hyde said dejectedly, closing the door behind him.

In all honesty, he _wasn't_ fine. He was disoriented before he even stepped out the door of the small apartment, his thoughts jumbled and foggy, and he had a pounding headache. Even the snow flakes falling on his head seemed to make it worse.

He was pretty sure he had a fever. Granted, he didn't have a thermometer to tell, but he'd felt extremely hot when he'd felt his forehead, even though the rest of his body felt like it was freezing.

And the half a line hadn't helped anything, especially since he hadn't eaten anything but what he'd snitched from the 7-11 since breakfast two days earlier. Come to think of it... The last thing he'd drank had been half a left over beer before going to bed at eleven o'clock. And a small container of milk he'd snitched from the cafeteria at lunch before that. He hadn't touched the soda that Tamra had offered.

Hyde usually tried to make sure he ate; he didn't have a lot of muscle to lose, and he needed every bit of what he had if he wanted to survive. But with everybody wearing big jackets this time of year, store keepers were watching more closely to make sure no one stole. And Hyde was suspicious enough that they always watched him from the second he walked in anyways.

It didn't matter. All he had to do was make it home with the coke, and Edna would most likely feed him. Even if she didn't, she'd be so high that it wouldn't matter; he'd be able to sneak into the kitchen and grab what he wanted anyways.

He grimaced as he stumbled, and nearly toppled into the snow. _Just gotta make it __home first, idiot,_ he thought.

* * *

An hour later, Hyde shuffled into the house, covered in snow, and barely conscious.

"Ma?" He called weakly. "I got it."

He scowled as Edna and Curt flew out of the bedroom, both wearing bathrobes that hung open, revealing everything as they came towards him.

Curt grinned at him, and put a meaty hand on the back of his neck as Edna grabbed the bag, and started weighing the smaller baggies inside.

"Come on, boy, ain't nothin' you ain't seen before," He said with a chuckle. When Hyde tried moving away, the older man's grip tightened. "You weigh it this time?"

Hyde struggled against Curt's bruising fingers as he said, "Yeah, as soon as I got there. I weighed it twice, man."

Curt held on a for a few more seconds, before letting go. "It better be right this time," He growled, pushing Hyde towards his bedroom.

"Ain't like you paid for it," Hyde muttered, slamming the door closed, and putting the chair under the knob.

That had been instinctual, to shove the chair under the knob, something he didn't even have to think about anymore, but it'd sapped the last remnants of his energy.

He scoffed a little as he fell onto his mattress in the corner. Curt could still break the door down if he was mad enough. Or Hyde knew that if Edna threw a big enough fit, he'd move the damn thing himself.

_So why the hell do I do it?_ He wondered, pulling the thin blanket up over himself, not bothering to take his clothes or boots off.

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He didn't even have enough energy to find his pipe and pot, to try to dull the sensation of just living.


	4. Breathing Is A Luxury I Shouldn't Have

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read this, but a special thanks to those who have reviewed it. Gotta say, guys, little disappointing to know that 92 people have read, and only four have reviewed. Naughty, naughty readers. But anyways, shout outs to speckled girl, inahatedworld, bratalia, and special shout out to christineexx for reviewing.

* * *

He wasn't sure how much later it was when he finally had a semi-lucid moment. He could tell it was still dark outside, so either it hadn't been as long as it felt, or it had been a helluva lot longer than it felt.

He tried moving. _Tried_, because his arms and legs wouldn't work. They were slow, sluggish, uncoordinated... He figured he probably looked like one of those stupid baby giraffes trying to walk for the first time. Or worse, 'cause at least the damn things _could_ walk.

He finally gave up, and just laid still on his bed. There wasn't anything he _really_ needed... No reason he couldn't just lay in bed and sleep.

* * *

"_Steven!"_

"_Open the damn door, boy!"_

"_You little shit-head, open the damn door!"_

"_I'm gonna tan your ass for this, boy!"_

Were those really voices? Or was he still hallucinating? Not that it mattered, he couldn't have gotten up even if he wanted to.

_Crash_

"_What the hell is wrong with you?"_

"_Steven? You alright?"_

"_Dammit all. Just what I wanted to do today. Deal with a sick little punk."_

"_Go get me some cough and fever medicine."_

"_Where is it?"_

"_Probably at the store, you dipshit!"_

"_I ain't runnin' to the store! It's almost midnight!"_

"_He's burning up, you asshole! Now go get me some medicine, or you can forget about gettin' any more of the damn blow!"_

"_Fine, fine, I'll get the shit-head some medicine."_

"_Steven? Can you hear me, baby?"_

Ugh. He knew he was awake when his mother set her cold, clammy hand on his forehead. He had the instantaneous desire to scrub his face. He tried squirming away from her, but his body just wouldn't respond.

It didn't matter. None of it freakin' mattered anymore. Edna, Ronny, Curt, the kids at school... none of it mattered. Nothing was gonna change, no matter what Edna and Curt decided to do to him... Because it didn't matter anymore.

So he slowly let himself drift away again.

"_How the hell we gonna pay for it if he's sick?"_

"_I don't know, we'll figure somethin' out. It ain't like he's gonna be sick forever. God, Curt, you're such an ass. My boy's sick, and all you can think about is your next hit."_

"_Oh give it a rest, bitch. Like you're babying him for his own sake. You're just hopin' he'll get better before we run out."_

"_Oh shut up!"_

* * *

"Hyde?"

Hyde groaned, as he slowly opened his eyes, before closing them again quickly at the stabbing pain in his head from the light.

"Oh, damn," He muttered, covering his eyes with his hands.

"Dammit, Hyde, you scared the hell outta us!"

He carefully opened one eye, staring through his fingers, and seen a flash of red hair.

"Donna?"

"Yeah. Eric and I decided to check on you since you missed school all week."

"All week? What day is it?"

"Saturday," Came Eric's high pitched voice. "You missed three days of school, man. What the hell happened?"

"Was sick." Damn. He'd been out of it for three days? "What time is it?"

"Almost two. Edna's not here, by the way. In case you're wondering," Donna said, clearly pissed. "Was she here at all the whole time you were sick?"

"I... I don't know. I can't remember. Shit. Three days?"

Donna frowned, and put her hand on his forehead. "Well, you don't have a fever. You hungry?"

With perfect timing, Hyde's stomach gave a loud growl. "Yeah, I could eat," He said with a weak smile for his two best friends.

"You think you can stand?"

He struggled for a moment, trying to pull his feet underneath him, but his whole body felt like Jell-O. "Not even a little," He said, trying to force his trademark nonchalance persona to come out.

While Donna and Eric helped him up –well, Donna did, Forman mostly stood there for show, the weakling –Hyde inwardly reeled. Three freakin' days? Had he really been out of it that long? How long had it taken Edna to come in and check on him? _Had_ she checked on him, or had that been a hallucination or dream?

Whether real or imaginary, where the hell was Edna? If she'd went to get him medicine or something, and came back to find him gone, there'd be hell to pay.

He grimaced as his two friends helped him outside, the light blinding him for a moment. Who was he kidding? Even if she'd decided to go out of town whoring for the week, she'd kick his ass six ways from Sunday if he wasn't home when she got back.

"Donna, you gonna be able to get me back by yourself?" He asked, eyes still closed.

"Hey!" Forman squeaked.

"Yeah. You kidding? You weigh less than most of the girls in gym class, and I throw them around no problem," Donna said, and Hyde could hear the smile in her voice.

He bristled indignantly. It wasn't his fault. He was just barely touching 4'6", and weighed 63 pounds last time he'd snuck into the nurse's office. It just wasn't fair. Yeah, his voice had deepened before Forman's and Kelso's, but they'd both grown before him. Eric had shot up to 5'1", but was still a bean pole at eighty-five pounds. Kelso hadn't grown up as much, only five inches taller than Hyde, but he'd bulked out with what seemed like solid muscle at 110 pounds.

But, at least Donna was taller than Eric, which was nice. Granted, Hyde was still the shortest of the bunch, but Eric was still the skinniest. Sure, Hyde technically weighed the least, but everybody knew he had some muscles on his stocky frame. Forman was just a… well, a bean pole.

"Hyde, if you want, I can just carry you. It'd probably be quicker."

Hyde stopped up short, opening his eyes for the first time since they'd stepped outside. "Try it, Pinciotti, and I swear to God I'll give you a titty twister so bad you won't even be able to wear a shirt," He growled, glaring at her.


	5. But We Live With The Shame

A/N: Ok, so this chapter is a little weird, and jilted... I'm not quite sure what I dislike about it, but there's something... Any suggestions? My beta is out of town, so any help would be helpful lol. :D

* * *

Hyde was dimly aware of Forman and Donna talking as they dragged him along, but he couldn't really hear what they were saying. Well, didn't _want_ too, at least. He was just so damn tired... And the headache... Good god, a person's head shouldn't be allowed to hurt that much without exploding.

At that point, Donna was pretty much carrying him. She was supporting all his weight, while all Hyde did was shuffle his feet along. Which was about the extent of what he could do. And to be honest, he wasn't even doing that all that well.

"Where... we goin'?" He asked, struggling to breathe.

"My house or Eric's," Donna said thoughtfully, stopping to think.

"Your... parents... home?"

"My mom is, but my dad's having a midnight madness sale. He'll be gone for a few days," She said with a laugh. "He took three sets of clothes, and some extra bananas for the monkey."

"Then I don't... care where we... go. Jus' so long... as I get... some food..." Hyde muttered, still struggling to keep the nonchalant, tough-guy charade. Which probably looked pretty stupid, since he was being dragged along by a girl almost twice his size.

Really, the Forman house probably would be better, with Mrs. Forman being a nurse, and Midge being... well, an idiot. But every time he went to the Forman's, and had Mrs. Forman bandage him up, Social Services showed up over the next few days. Then when Hyde told the requisite lies, and excuses, and they left, Edna and whatever 'Uncle' was around beat the living hell out of him. Then he went back to Mrs. Forman's, and she called Social Services, and... yeah, it was just one big vicious cycle.

But on the flip side, if Bob came home early, he'd most likely toss Hyde out on his head, and ground Donna for a month if he found Hyde in his house. He'd hated Hyde ever since he'd found Hyde stealing from the gas station across from his store. Last time he'd found Hyde in his house, he'd literally thrown the boy out the back door, with a kick in the ass to help him along.

So it was a fifty-fifty shot which ever house he went to.

"Hyde, you okay?"

Hyde glanced up at her. "What?" He growled.

"I said, we're gonna go to Mrs. Forman's. You don't look good, man."

"Yeah… Thanks… Einstein," He muttered, closing his eyes again.

* * *

Donna looked down, and realized that she was dragging Hyde along, that he had passed out again. She sighed, and carefully slung him up over her shoulders in a fireman's carry.

"Donna, you want help?" Eric asked anxiously, twittering all around her nervously.

"Eric, it's fine. We're less than ten minutes from your house. And he doesn't weigh anything. Just stop... Stop twitching, and go tell your mom we're on our way, okay?" She said, trying to mask how nervous she was. As Eric took off running towards the housing tract they both lived in, she picked up her own pace.

Hyde's face was pale, and his body limp. And she was right: he weighed right next to nothing. He shouldn't have been that skinny. And he was cold. God, nobody should be that cold. Or that still.

"Just hold on, Hyde. We're almost there," She whispered. "It's gonna be okay."

* * *

Hyde instinctively knew he was on the Formans' couch when he woke. The feeling of clean sheets underneath him, and Mrs. Forman's warm quilt over him. The smell of cookies and pot roast cooking. Definitely not his house; there, the only thing 'cooking' was the meth in the bathroom.

He let half a smile slide across his face as he opened his eyes, and slid off the couch, heading towards the kitchen. He still felt a little weak, but over-all, he felt pretty damn good. A few of Mrs. Forman's peanut butter fudge cookies, and he'd be back on top again. Hopefully, he'd be able to nab a few cookies, and slip out without answering too many questions, and be back to the house before Edna even knew he was gone.

He went to push the door into the kitchen open, when he heard Mrs. Forman's angry voice, and stopped. Good mood vanishing like smoke, he sat behind the door and listened.

"I don't care what you want, Edna! Steven is sick! The kids dragged him over here unconscious, dehydrated, and covered in cigarette burns! You're killing him! How could you do that to your own son? And I seen him the other night, wandering the streets at three in the morning! Without a _jacket_! Do you care about him at all?"

There was a few second pause, where Hyde could imagine what Edna was screeching into Mrs. Forman's ear. _Useless piece of shit kid_, and _none of your business bitch_ would be the staples of the conversation.

"Edna, he's a _good_ boy. Why don't you just let us take him? Let him stay with us. You know he'll be taken care of here. We'll make sure he goes to school, gets to the doctor... You won't have to worry about him anymore."

Hyde felt his heart drop into his stomach. This had to stop. Before Edna got mad enough to tell Mrs. Forman why she wouldn't want him in her house.

He steeled himself, and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the phone from a startled Mrs. Forman.

"Ma?"

"Steven? What the fuck are you doin', boy?"

"I'm on my way home, ma, I'll be there in twenty minutes," He said woodenly, before hanging up the phone. Turning to Mrs. Forman, he stared at her for a few seconds.

"Steven, you don't have to go back. You can stay here. You don't have to... she shouldn't... Steven, you _can't_ go back. You can stay here, Mr. Forman won't mind. You don't have to leave," Mrs. Forman said with tears in her eyes.

"Yeah, I do," He said simply. "Thanks for everything, Mrs. Forman. I'll see you around, alright?"

Before she could say anything, before she could weaken his resolve with those sad eyes of hers, he bolted out the sliding glass door, and took off at a jog. He had a good three miles to go, and he knew Edna would hold him to that twenty minute time frame. She'd be pissed enough; any extra time, and he'd probably wind up in the hospital again.


	6. How Long Can I Keep Pretending To Be?

A/N: Okay, this chapter isn't perfect, but it's better than the last one at least. As I find time, I will try to go back and redo most of these, but they'll have to work for now.

Warnings: There's graphic abuse, and implied sexual abuse in this chapter. Ye have been warned!

* * *

Breathing hard, Hyde pushed open his front door, and slowly entered, peering around cautiously.

"Ma?" He called, wandering into the living room. "I'm home."

He had seen the flash of red hair out of the corner of his eye, so he mostly avoided the slap his mother sent his way, as he spun around, backing towards the wall. Hellfire, and brimstone spewed from Edna's eyes as she advanced on him.

"Ma, look, it was an accident, I don't even remember leavin'! You know I wouldn't just leave without tellin' you! Eric and Donna just got scared when they came over, and took me to Mrs. Forman's. I didn't do anything!" He pleaded, shrinking against he wall as Edna came closer.

"You little shit head, do you know what I've had to deal with the past four days?" She hissed, pulling him up by his shirt, and pinning him to the wall. He could smell the alcohol on her breath as she leaned close. "First I have to waste money on your useless ass, 'cause you're too dumb to not get sick, then I come home and can't find you, after I wasted all that damn money, and then I get a call from the Saint herself," She said sarcastically. "Tellin' me I don't know how to take care of my own boy. Tellin' me that I mistreat you. Well? Do I mistreat you, Steven?" She demanded, giving him a crop duster to the back of the head. _(A/N: crop duster: if you've seen NCIS, it's what Gibbs does to DiNozzo. If you haven't seen NCIS, it's swatting someone, palm cupped, clipping them in the head.)_

Steven shook his head quickly. "No, ma," He said, trying to shrink away from the next blow. Some days, he could argue, sass, or backtalk her, even openly defy her on the really good days, but he knew that this wasn't one of those days. If he wanted to be able to _walk_ outta the room, he had to tread carefully.

"Of course I don't!" She snapped, delivering the anticipated swat. "I feed you, I clothe you, I let you do whatever the hell you want! I'm a damn good parent!"

"I know, ma. You're real good. Mrs. Forman doesn't know what she's talkin' about. She was just worried."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Hyde knew he'd screwed up. He shouldn't have said anything that even _implied_ Mrs. Forman cared about him.

Sure enough, the blows started raining down on his head, driving him to the floor. He instinctively curled himself in a ball, trying to avoid the kicks that were sure to follow.

"She was _worried_? That self-righteous, arrogant little _bitch_ was worried about you? _Nobody_ cares about your worthless ass other than the people who pay for it! You think she'd still be _worried_ if she knew how you spent most your nights? You think she'd ever let you in her house again? Hell, you think she'd even let you within fifty feet of that damn boy of hers?" Edna screeched, kicking him viciously as she smashed everything within reach on his head.

"Ma, stop! Please!" Hyde pleaded, trying to crawl away. He knew it would only infuriate her more, but he couldn't just lay there. "Ma, please!"

Sure enough, the beating got worse. She cussed incoherently as she broke a wine bottle over the side of his face, growing angrier at the blood that dripped down onto the carpet. Screaming, she grabbed hold of the little end table, and broke it over his abdomen.

Steven finally stopped moving, black spots dancing in front of his eyes as tears rolled down his cheeks. "Ma, I'm sorry," He whimpered as she stopped, and stared at him. "I didn't mean it, ma. I swear, I didn't even know what was goin' on. I'm sorry."

His mother stared at him disgustedly for a few seconds, before spitting on him.

"You little pathetic shithead. Get the hell outta my sight. Go on! Get," She shrieked, giving him a final kick towards his bedroom. "Get in your room, and don't you dare come out!"

Weakly, Hyde started pulling himself to his bedroom, noticing for the first time that his door was broken, hanging of the hinges.

Even distracted by the pain, he knew that was a sign of bad things to come. If Edna couldn't lock him into his room to make sure he stayed, she'd either barricade him in with one of the solid oak dressers from her room, or...

He started crying harder as Edna followed behind him, the handcuffs she'd picked up at the porno store in her hand. He prayed that she wouldn't cuff him to the radiator again. _Please, God, anything but the radiator,_ he thought. _The water pipe, the wall boards... anything but the damn radiator._

He hiccuped in relief as she attached one end to his wrist, and the other end to the water pipe, before sneering at him.

"If you keep quiet in here, maybe I'll bring you somethin' to eat later," She said, before exiting the room, closing the door the best she could behind her.

As soon as she was gone, Hyde closed his eyes, trying to wipe the tears away with his free hand as best he could.

It wasn't all bad; she'd have to let him out on Monday for school. And she'd at least throw him in a water bottle within a few hours. She might or might not actually feed him, but that was okay.

He'd survived another encounter with Hurricane Edna. Now as long as Curt didn't come home for a few days, he'd be okay.


	7. Body's Getting Colder

A/N: Ok peeps, firstly, I don't know when I'll be posting this, since the internet at my house was shut off on Sunday, and I'm only at my dad's for the day, so... :'( great sadness. Secondly, I owe a really big apology to MomentOfZen. I was out of line for being as rude as I was in my last author's note, since she had brought up a good point. I mean, honestly, I can't really expect all of you to just know what it was like in the 70s. At least... I kind of assume that nobody reading this was old enough to remember the seventies, since that'd make them... mid to late forties? Minimum? Anyways, so yeah, big apology. Thanks to everyone who's read, and a big thanks to the people who've reviewed. :D

P.S. For all the H/J fans out there... BE PATIENT! It's coming, I promise lol. Within the next two-four chapters, I swear. :D

* * *

Red knew something was wrong the second he set foot into his house. There was no noise from the kids in the basement, and -most out of character- there was no dinner on the table, or by the looks of things, even in the making.

"Kitty?" He called out warily.

"In the living room, Red."

Instantly, he knew what was wrong. But he prayed he was mistaken, even as he walked into the small living room, and seen the couch empty except for his wife.

"Where's Steven?" He demanded, still hoping that maybe the boy was with the other kids outside or downstairs.

"He went home," Kitty sobbed, head in her hands. "Edna called, and told me to send him home. I begged her to let him stay, but Steven came out, and told her he'd be right home. And I... I didn't stop him, Red."

Red sighed as he sat down, and pulled his wife into his arms. "There was nothing you could've done, Kitty. We can't kidnap him; Edna's already called the cops on us when Steven runs over here to hide. And until the boy admits what's going on, CPS won't remove him. There's nothing we can do."

Even as he said it, he fumed. Child Protective Services, his ass. He and Kitty had called those bastards more than twenty times, only to be informed that unless Steven admitted to the abuse, or they could come up with three witnesses who saw the abuse take place, they couldn't do anything.

He'd thought long and hard about just taking the boy; he'd seen that poor kid beat to hell so many times it made him sick. But Edna had already called the cops on them twice, and that was just when Steven ran to their house for a few hours to get away from her.

He couldn't go to jail for the boy. He had to make sure his own kids were taken care of. And if he went to jail, there would be _nowhere_ that was safe for the poor kid.

"Red, we have to do _something_," Kitty pleaded. "She's going to _kill_ him. You seen those burns; we can't just _leave_ him there."

Red stood angrily. "What the hell else am I supposed to do, Kitty? You want me to call CPS again? Just so that you can hear one more time that they won't do a damn thing about it? You want me to kidnap him, so we can both go to jail, and our kids can end up in foster care? Huh? Is that what you want, Kitty? Because that's all I can do!" He yelled, storming off upstairs, leaving his wife crying on the couch.

* * *

Eric heard his father yelling, heard his parents bedroom door slam shut. He glanced over at Kelso and Donna, who were sitting morosely on the couch.

"So, uh... I guess Hyde went home, huh?" Kelso asked slowly.

Eric nodded as he flopped down onto the couch in between them. "Yeah. His mom called today, told him to get home."

"And he just went," Donna said in disbelief. "No arguing with her, nothing. He just told her he'd be home in twenty minutes, and ran out the door."

"I don't get it; why does he keep goin' back?" Eric asked, shaking his head. "It doesn't make sense."

"He has to go back, at least until he tells somebody what Edna's doing to him," Donna explained. "Otherwise, nobody can do anything, and he has to go back. If your parents try to keep him, it's kidnapping."

"So why doesn't he say anything?" Eric demanded angrily. "Why the... hell does he keep goin' back if all he has to do is say what's goin' on?"

Donna looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "I don't know, Eric. I just... I just don't know."

* * *

Hyde had given up on trying to fall asleep. He knew it was getting pretty late, since it'd been dark for at least four or five hours. Edna was out in the living room, calling everyone she could think of apparently, trying to find out where Curt was. Every once in awhile, Hyde would hear her cuss, before slamming the phone back into the cradle.

She had thrown a jug of water into him. Granted, she'd practically bounced the damn thing off his head, and only a quick movement had saved him from being unconscious, even though he'd knocked his shoulder out of socket to avoid the jug. It was a good thing his shoulder had been dislocated so many times; it was relatively easy to pop it back into socket now.

He really hoped Curt didn't come home any time soon. They'd have one of their screaming matches, maybe even hit each other a bit. Whoever didn't storm out -or pass out from the booze and drugs- would then go into Hyde's room, and beat on him, like he was some sort of freakin' prize or something. But as long as Curt stayed gone for the night, Edna wouldn't bother Hyde until she came in to let him out Sunday night or Monday morning for school.

He sighed as he lit on of his cigarettes. To think he'd passed up on a pot roast and cookies for this.

Edna always dangled that over his head. Called him a stupid little shit every time he came back, laughing that laugh of hers.

He wasn't really sure why he kept coming back. It was just automatic, instinctual. It never crossed his mind to defy her, to stay away, to _not_ come home, until it was too late for him to leave.

Flicking his cigarette as far away from him as he could -no need to get covered in ashes since he was stuck like that for at least another day- he slowly drifted away, into his stories.

He wrote. Often. Nobody else knew about it, not even Donna. He wrote stories of different people, in different places, doing different things. Some were happy. Most were sad. Some involved life, others death. Some were humorous, while still others were downright morbid.

He'd started it when he was eight. Certain times, he could just shut down, and completely disappear into the world he'd created, spinning stories together like a weaver with a rug. Later, when Edna let him out, he'd put the ideas, the thoughts, and the stories to paper.


	8. They Ask Us Why

A/N: Ok peeps, so this chapter deals with abuse, both semi-graphic physical abuse, and speaks of sexual abuse. There is no graphic sexual abuse, in fact, it's only mentioned by the doctor. But I figured I'd warn anyways.

Also... YAY FOR ME GETTING THE INTERNET BACK! :D Stupid internet people, taking away my internet. Don't they know that the fans will kill me if I don't post? :D j/k, j/k, you guys are great. : )

* * *

Hyde had just gotten into the story -two young kids, a boy and a girl, who got lost in the woods of northern Wisconsin- when a sharp pain in his head pulled him violently back into reality.

He came to, only to try scrambling backwards, forgetting that he was still handcuffed to the pipe, and that Curt had a firm grip on his hair. Practically ripping his head off his shoulders.

"Where the hell you been, boy?" The older man demanded, punctuating his question with a swat of his free hand. "Your mother's been worried sick about you, you little shit."

"I... I..." Hyde struggled to come up with an answer -_any answer_- that would get him out of a royal ass-whooping, but after glancing up at Curt's bloodshot eyes, he knew that no answer he came up with would save him.

"Well? I'm waitin' for an answer, boy!"

"My friends came over; they got worried, so they took me back to their house," Hyde said woodenly. "I came back as soon as I woke up."

This time, a solid punch from Curt's meaty fist sent dots dancing in his vision. "You little retard! You think you got _friends_? That's a riot, boy. Don't _nobody_ like you," He sneered.

Hyde didn't hear the rest of what he said. Didn't feel what Curt did to him. He tuned it out, sliding -almost effortlessly- back into his world of make-believe.

But not quite strong enough to block out all the pain. As time went on, Hyde could feel more and more of the agony his body was going through, slipping into his fantasy world.

He tried to ignore it; tried to keep focusing on his story. It didn't matter. Whatever happened out there didn't matter.

It happened sometimes; he wasn't always able to slip into the story. There were times when, even if he managed it, he couldn't completely escape the real world. Sometimes were easier than others.

So he burrowed deeper into the story, pushing deeper and deeper to try and escape the blinding, mind-numbing pain his body was going through.

* * *

It was three o'clock in the morning when the phone rang, prompting Red to curse as he blindly reached around for the damn thing.

"Hello?" He said curtly. "You have any idea what ti-"

"Mr. Forman? Red Forman?"

Instantly, Red was awake, sitting up in bed, as Kitty began to stir beside him. "Yes, this is him."

"Mr. Forman, this is the Point Place emergency room. We have a young man here. Says his name is Steven Hyde. We tried getting a hold of his mother, but we haven't been able to contact her yet. He kept asking for you and your wife."

"Is he okay?" Red asked, motioning for Kitty to be silent for a moment.

"Well... It'd be better if you just came down."

"We'll be there," Red said, hanging the phone up, before turning to Kitty. "Get dressed. Steven's in the hospital, and he's asking for us."

* * *

"Oh thank God," Kitty whispered as they walked up to the nurse's desk. "Doctor Alvarez is on. He's a good doctor. Steven got lucky with him."

Red ignored her as he strode purposefully up to the desk. "I'm Red Forman. Here to see about Steven Hyde."

"Oh, hi. You must be Kitty's husband. It's nice to meet you, although it's under such terrible circumstances. I assume you're close to the boy?" The doctor asked, ushering them down a hallway.

"Yeah. We're kind of like his home away from home," Kitty said, forcing a small laugh. It was odd for her to be in the hospital for a personal reason rather than work. "How is he?"

"Well, he's not critical. We've got him stabilized in right now. We've got a chest tube in him right now for the punctured lung, and we've given him a transfusion for the blood he lost. His left arm suffered a compound fracture. The thing that worries us is after we got him out of surgery, he remained conscious long enough to ask for you two, and then slipped away. He still hasn't awoken."

"When was he brought in?" Kitty asked with a frown. The doctor was giving her the 'look' that said he needed to speak to her in private.

"About twelve o'clock this afternoon."

"And you're just now calling us? What kinda medical quack are you?" Red demanded angrily.

Alvarez took it in stride, never slowing. "Our first issue was keeping him alive. Then trying to figure out who he was, and who dropped him off here. Once he told us his name, we tried contacting the mother. When we got no response, we asked who else we could call, and he said you."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. What do you mean 'who dropped him off'?" Kitty asked, holding up a hand in confusion.

"We've reviewed the cameras; somebody pulled up to the emergency room doors, slowed the car down, shoved him out of the backseat, and kept moving. We couldn't read the plates. Ah, here we are. Now, I'll warn you: it looks worse than it is. Other than the punctured lung, and his arm, he's fine."

Kitty watched as Red physically steeled himself to walk through door...

And was horrified herself when she followed him into the small room.

He _did_ look bad. Mottled bruises of all shades were visible on all the skin she could see, along with a littering of cuts scattered here and there. He was deathly still, and pale; the only movement was the small rising of his chest, and the only sounds that of the heart monitor, and the suctioning sound of the chest tube.

"Kitty, could I talk to you for a moment outside? Mr. Forman, if you could try talking to the boy, see if you get any response. I just have some medical history questions that Kitty might be able to answer for me."

Kitty nervously followed Dr. Alvarez out into the hall. "I don't know how much help I'll be; his medical file here is probably a mile long," She said bitterly.

"Yes, that's part of what I wanted to talk to you about. Steven shows long term signs of abuse. Do you know anything?"

"Yes. Red and I have called CPS over twenty times, and they refuse to do anything. They say they can't unless Steven admits what's happening, and he refuses," She said with quiet desperation. "We keep trying, but nothing we do does anything."

"Well... Unless we can suddenly contact his mother, would you be willing to accept a temporary placement in your home? I'm sure I can work it out with Social Services."

"Oh yes! Of course we would. We've been trying to get him to stay with us ever since he became friends with our son!" Kitty said joyfully. "Do you think you can?"

Dr. Alvarez nodded, then continued on hesitantly, "Kitty, do you know the extent of the abuse?"

"Well... I know she beats him. Burns him with cigarettes, doesn't buy him the proper clothes. I don't think I've ever seen the child with a jacket. Why?"

"Because... Well... During our exam, we noticed... Well, we seen signs of long-term sexual abuse. Including an incident that must have happened within the last twenty-four hours. His rectum shows signs of long-term scarring, and one of the reasons for the transfusion was that he was bleeding so severely from there."

Kitty felt her legs turn to jelly, but she couldn't stop herself from sliding to her knees, tears running down her face like a river, as she felt her heart being ripped out of her chest. "Oh, God, no. Please, God," She cried. "No, no, no. Not that. Oh God, please, not that."

Dr. Alvarez knelt beside her, and held her tightly, letting her cry on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Kitty. So, so sorry," He whispered.

* * *

Red nervously sat down in the chair next to the bed, crossing his legs, then uncrossing them, then recrossing them, before he leaned back, then leaned forward, then finally sitting still.

"Uh... hey... Steven. Um... I don't really know what to say. I don't understand why you let your mom do this to you; all you have to do is tell the social worker what she's doing, and you could be out of there. You could come live with us. Hell, you and the other dumb-asses practically live there anyways; might as well make it permanent, huh? We'd even kick Eric out of his room if you wanted. Make him sleep on the couch for a while. It'd be good for him, you know? Build some character," He said with a chuckle, before leaning in closer to Steven's still form again.

"Look... Steven. I know you're scared. I don't know why, but I understand. You're in a tough situation, kid. Most kids would have curled up and died years ago.

"But not you. You keep on fighting. You're a good kid, Steven. A strong kid. I'd... I'd really like it if you come live with Kitty and me. I'd... I'd be proud to call you my son," He finished, nearly choking to keep the tears from his eyes.

There was no response. The heart monitor continued beating slowly, while the chest tube continued the suctioning noise every twenty seconds. The rise and fall of the thin boy's chest was slow; Red wasn't a doctor, but it seemed too slow.

"Red?"

Red quickly stood, scrubbing at his eyes as his wife entered. "Uh, yeah, Kitty. Did you help the doctor?"

Tears filled his wife's eyes again. "Oh, Red. He said... He said... That Steven showed signs of... Signs of... ongoing... sexual abuse," She sobbed, running to him, and embracing him tightly.

Red couldn't even find it in himself to hug his wife back, to comfort her. For a moment, he thought he couldn't breath as the world around him seemed to come to a crashing halt.

_Pull yourself together, man!_ Came a strong voice in his head. _Somebody's has to take charge here. And you're the man!_

"It'll... It'll be alright, Kitty. We'll figure this all out. Somehow. Everything will be alright," He said woodenly, forcing the words out just as he forced himself to wrap his arms around Kitty.

Because he knew it was a lie. Nothing would ever be right again. Not for Steven.


	9. Can You Hear Me As I Cry?

A/N: Okay, firstly let me say I _know_ this chapter is a little weird. I based it off... well, I can't really tell you without giving the plot away, but know that it _is_ based off something. If you really dislike it, or it's too weird, let me know, and I'll try another direction. So please: Reviews are most welcome, and necessary in this case lol.

Now, with that out of the way: I'm looking for some titles. Different story title, and some chapter titles. I only use lyrics from songs for titles, so if anybody has suggestions, please send them in a message or leave it in a review. They don't have to be from the same song, or even the same band, but I would really appreciate some different ideas. :D I don't care what type of music it is, just so long as the lyrics you send me goes to a chapter if you understand what I'm saying... For example, a song about somebody trying to get the world to see them as they are could be Rise Against's Swing Life Away (_Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up?_). For example. So. Please to be giving me suggestions? :D

* * *

Eric, Donna, and Kelso sat or stood all around the room, staring uncomfortably at the still form in the bed.

_This can't be happening_, Donna thought. Any moment now, Hyde was gonna wake up, grinning as he seen his friends' worried faces, and call them a bunch of saps. _Because that still, pale boy lying on the bed attached to monitors with the hose in chest can't be Hyde_. What the hell had Edna done to him? _This can't be happening._

"Why won't he wake up?" Kelso asked quietly, frowning at the way his voice seemed to be thundering in the silence of the eery room.

Eric shrugged. "I dunno. My mom said he's not in a coma; he just won't wake up. They can't figure out why. I guess we're supposed to talk to him, see if he wakes up or something."

"Well if there's nothing wro-"

"We don't know, Kelso!" Donna snapped. "So quit asking, you dill hole. Besides, you guys are acting like he's dead, talking about him like he isn't here."

"Oh yeah, 'cause, you know, you're doing so much better. You've been sitting here scowling at him since we walked in," Eric retorted.

He yelped as Donna leaned over and smacked him upside the head, before she went over and sat on the edge of Hyde's bed.

"Um... Hey, Hyde. How's it goin'? We uh... We kinda miss you at school. Biology's no fun without you. The other guys are too scared to even dissect the frog, much less throw it at somebody," She said with a laugh. "But I guess Mrs. Forman talked to all your teachers, and they're keeping all the work for you, so you can make it up when you get better. Fun, fun, huh? You get out of a coma, and we're gonna drop a pile of homework on your lap.

"Oh, and the Winter's Eve dance is coming up. I figured we'd all go together, since the chances of any of you losers gettin' a date is pretty slim, huh? Especially since you aren't gonna be doing much dancing with a broken arm."

"Hey, I got a date!" Kelso blurted out. "And a good lookin' date. Yeah, yeah. I asked Pam Macy to go with me, and she laughed and said of course, why wouldn't she go to the dance with me?"

Eric and Donna burst into laughter, and for a moment, it seemed like everything was gonna be alright. But the sharp, biting of laughter of their best friend was still missing.

* * *

Floating along in his make-believe world, Hyde shook his head, trying to push out the irritating buzzing at the back of his mind.

Like a director filming a movie, he glanced around at the trees surrounding the two kids. How to describe it? He closed his eyes for a moment, before glancing down at the notebook and pencil that had appeared in his hands.

_The winds blew through the boughs gently, giving the forest an..._

No. That wasn't gonna work. Maybe...

_The crisp wind blew the green boughs of the forest, making the branches sway to and fro eerily..._

Hyde smiled to himself. That would work. That was definitely workable. Then he frowned again. Stupid, stupid buzzing!

What the hell was Curt doing to him out there? Whatever it was, it shouldn't have been able to penetrate this far into the Make-Believe.

Hyde shook his head, and the boy and girl vanished, along with the woods. He found himself sitting in the Formans basement, a pipe and baggie laying in front of him.

Even as he toked up, he couldn't shake the anger building as the buzzing continued; it was fainter, quieter, but still there.

What the hell. All of this 'cause Hyde had gotten sick. All because Edna burnt him with cigarettes, and the burns got infected. Because she wouldn't let him wear a jacket. Because she let strangers...

Hyde clamped down on that particular line of thought as the basement started shaking. He closed his eyes, visualizing the Formans basement as it existed in the real world.

"It doesn't matter, you know," Came Hyde's voice.

His eyes popped open instantly, and he glared at himself across the room.

"What doesn't matter?" He snorted, propping his feet up on the table.

The other Hyde -who was a worse tormentor than Edna- mimicked the movement with a malicious smile. "This. Any of this. Each time, you gotta go a little bit deeper. Each time, it gets harder for you to hold control of the dream."

"It's not a dream," Steven snapped, lighting a cigarette.

Hyde smiled at him condescendingly. "Oh, that's right, I forgot. It's "Make-Believe". Same thing. You can't handle it out there, so you keep coming here. Each time, you go just that little bit further. And each freakin' time it's harder for you to find your way back out."

Steven took a long drag off the cigarette, exhaling slowly as he stared across the room. "Why do you do this to me? I just wanted the pain to go away. Just for awhile."

"I ain't doin' anything, Steven. I am what you made me. So in essence, you're doing this to you.

"As to why... We both know you can't hide in here forever. Curt's gonna keep up until you give him some sort of response. He's probably out there waitin' for you to scream. But the body can't react if the mind's not there tellin' it what to do."

Steven dropped his feet back to the ground, before standing, and pacing in front of the freezer angrily.

"What if I don't wanna go back, huh?" He demanded. "What then? He just keeps goin' 'til he kills me?"

Hyde shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "Most likely. You know, this all could have been avoided if you'd just stayed at the Formans."

Steven grimaced. "I didn't think he'd be back until after Edna let me out."

Hyde laughed. "Oh, yeah, that's a good one. Hell, you didn't even know he wasn't home. And you thought he was gonna be gone the whole damn weekend? How the hell did you expect him to go all weekend without the cocaine? Damn, if you're that dumb, maybe he should try to screw some sense into you."

Steven dropped to the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees, struggling to hold on to the dream, even as the basement shook like mad. "Why are you doing this?" He begged, tears streaming down his face. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Hyde walked through the slowly dissolving basement, through the table, and through the couch, to kneel in front of him.

"To make you go back. Because if you don't, he will kill you. And if you die, this all dies, including me. So pull your head out of your ass, quit your whining, and get back!"


	10. Say A Prayer For The Child In Me

A/N: Damn, guys, I'm pretty darn pleased with myself. Three chapters, three days. I is awesome! Feel free to stroke my ego, and elect me queen of awesomeness. :D J/k, j/k.

But onto a slightly more serious note: there is nothing graphic in this chapter. But it is _highly_ disturbing. Well, at least I think it's a little disturbing, and when I think it's slightly disturbing, it typically means other people will feel the overwhelming desire to puke or sob. Again, nothing graphic, but... Well, if you're brave enough, read on and find out for yourself. But I warn you: this is not a chapter for the weak of heart.

* * *

_"To make you go back. Because if you don't, he will kill you. And if you die, this all dies, including me. So pull your head out of your ass, quit your whining, and get back!"_

"No. No, I'm not going back. Not 'til it's over," Steven said fiercely. "I can't. I won't. You can't make me."

Hyde grinned maliciously. "Really? Well then, let me show you some of my favorite places in your 'Make-Believe'."

Instantly, the slowly dissolving basement became Steven's bedroom.

Steven glanced around, eyes growing huge as he took everything in.

"What the hell are you doin'?" He asked hoarsely, trying to force the room to change back to the basement. "What the hell is this?"

Hyde kept that grin on his face. "Oh, come on. You don't recognize the little brat in the corner? You know exactly what this is."

"No. No, no, no. I'm not here, I'm back in the basement," Steven whispered, pushing with all his might to make the room change.

Hyde laughed. "Oh, give it up, Buddy Boy. This is where I _live_; you'll never be stronger than I am. Not here. So you might as well sit back and enjoy the show."

Steven finally opened his eyes. Through the tears, he could see himself, nine years younger, wearing his fuzzy Donald Duck pajamas as the younger him lay curled up on his mattress.

"You remember that night, Steven? You'd drank six or seven glasses of orange Kool-Aid trying to get the taste of your first cigarette out of your mouth, about an hour before bed time. How long did you manage to hold it?"

"I don't know," Steven whispered, sliding to the ground to watch the boy. "A few hours, maybe. It seemed like forever. And I knew I couldn't fall asleep; Edna would've tanned my ass if I'd peed the bed."

Hyde sat down next to him, and the two watched silently as the little boy tossed and turned for a few moments, before tiptoeing over to the door.

"I remember tryin' to think which I'd get it worse for: peein' the bed, or bein' outta bed when I wasn't supposed to be," Steven said quietly, watching with dull, lifeless eyes as the younger version of himself hesitated at the door for a few seconds, before finally quietly pulling it open. "I finally figured that if I snuck to the bathroom quick enough, they might not find out. But if I peed the bed, they'd definitely know."

As the four-year old version of themselves crept out into the hallway, neither boy moved. The room just shifted around them, finding themselves almost instantaneously in the kitchen, staring down the hallway.

"How long are you gonna make me watch this?" Steven asked, his voice numb.

Hyde shrugged. "Until you decide to go back. And if this particular incident doesn't push you out, I got lots more to choose from," He said with a grim smile. "About nine years worth. So why don't you just give up and go back?"

Steven shook his head. "No. You might be able to keep me here, but you can't make me watch," He said, closing his eyes tightly.

Hyde's breath tickled his ear as he leaned in close, and whispered, "I might not be able to make you watch... But you can't stop yourself from hearing."

"Steven! What the hell you doin' outta bed, boy?" Came Bud's slightly drunk voice, from somewhere to their right.

"I... I... I have to potty, dad," Four-year old Steven whimpered. "I just wanna potty, then I'll go to bed."

"You're gonna stay your ass right there 'til I finish here. Then you're gonna get an ass-whoopin' like you wouldn't believe, boy."

Without opening his eyes, Steven knew what was happening as the room went quiet. Bud and the strange man the four-year old had never seen before were talking quietly, arguing over the price of the bag of Blow. Steven remembered the feel of the stranger's eyes running up and down his body, staring at him in a way that even the four-year old knew was wrong.

"Was the first time you'd ever met Ronny, right?" At Steven's small nod, Hyde chuckled. "Damn. Lucky you haven't gotten a disease from that nasty perv yet."

Steven shot up, tears running down his face as he ran to stand in front of his four year old self.

"Run! Don't just stand there, run! Ain't nothin' he's gonna do to you for runnin' is gonna be as bad as what's gonna happen if you stay! Go! Get outta here!" He screamed, shaking the small figure by the shoulders.

Hyde didn't move from where he sat, just shook his head sadly. "He can't hear you, Steven. This isn't one of your fantasy stories. It's not something that I created. This is a memory. And you can't change a memory. Not here, anyways."

Steven began to shudder from the sobs choking him, as he heard Bud say, "Steven, Ronny is gonna stay the night here. And we don't want him to be scared of the dark, so he's gonna sleep in with you, alright? Why don't you show him where your bedroom is."

Hyde finally stood, and walked over behind Steven, both of them watching as the four year old gratefully lead the stranger to his room, knowing nothing but that his father wasn't going to hurt him tonight.

"You know what's coming, Steven," Hyde said quietly. "You might not have known that night, but you know what's gonna happen. And I can make _every... last... detail..._ play again. You thought it was bad going through it? _Pbbfft_. Imagine what it's gonna feel like when you have to _hear_ it. When you have to _watch_ it. Knowing how much it hurt, and knowing you can't do a _damn thing_ to stop it."

"Why're you doin' this?" Steven asked quietly, desperately, as he watched Ronny lean down, and whisper something into the little boy's ear, making him laugh as he lead the stranger to his bedroom. He remembered the joke. What kind of dog did Dracula have? A bloodhound. Looking back, Steven couldn't even remember why he'd laughed. It wasn't even a good joke, much less a funny one.

"Because. You gotta get outta here, Steven. You survived that night. You thought you couldn't, but you did. You survived to make it to another day. But if you don't get outta here... If you don't go back... Curt's gonna kill you. He's gonna go too far, and he's gonna kill you. You need to go back, and either give him what he wants so he'll go away on his own, or you need to scream your little lungs out for Edna.

"Because I'll be _damned_ if I went through nine years of this shit with you, just for you to give up and die on me now, you little bastard. So what's it gonna be?"


	11. My Insides Scream So Loud

A/N: Ok, yeah, this a little unrealistic here. But I needed to get Jackie into the story, and this was most realistic way I could think of. But it will get better, I promise!

Added Note: OMG SO SORRY. I accidentally posted my Four Brothers chapter here. Oops. : (

* * *

Hyde groaned as he clawed his way back to reality, the pain in his body hitting him like a ton of bricks.

"Oh shit," He moaned, trying to rub his head, only to find his arm held in a sling.

"Oh my God! You're awake!"

"Shit!" Hyde swore, nearly throwing himself off the bed in panic, before he seen the owner of the voice, a small, pixie like little brunette girl who sat in the chair next to his bed. "Who the hell are you?"

"You shouldn't cuss like that," She said snobbishly. "Especially when there's a lady around."

"Well, I don't see no 'lady', I just see a little girl who I don't know sittin' by my bed. Care to explain, princess?"

The girl broke into a huge smile. "Why, thank you! Usually, only my father calls me princess! Oh, anyways, right. I'm Jacqueline Burkhart. I'm here as part of my parents charity work."

"Oh, great so I'm a charity case," Hyde said, struggling to get comfortable.

"No, not you, you loser," She said, honestly seeming offended that Hyde had thought her low enough to be giving _him_ charity. "The hospital. My dad donates tons of money here, then once a month, my mom and I come here to visit the sick people."

Hyde sighed. "Aren't there any other sick people you can go and bother?" He asked, pushing himself into a sitting position.

"No, you're the only one my age, and... what are you doing?" She asked suspiciously.

Hyde grinned at her as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed, ripping the IV out of his hand at the same time. "What's it look like, princess?"

"You can't be getting up!" She practically shrieked. "Nurse! Nurse!"

Hyde was stunned into stillness, as the girl threw herself on him, forcefully shoving him back down onto the bed.

"What the hell you doin', you crazy bitch?" He swore. "Let me up!"

"No! You're not supposed to be moving! Nurse!"

Almost without thinking, Hyde's hand snaked out from underneath her, and clamped down around her mouth. Almost instantly, he regretted it.

"Ow! I can't believe you just freakin' bit me!" He growled. At that point, he wasn't sure who was holding onto who, as they each struggled to get a better grip.

"I said let. Me. Up!" Hyde grunted.

"And I said you're not supposed to be moving! Nurse!"

He watched in horror as she managed to reach around, and slammed her small fist down on the call button.

"Dammit! What the hell?"

"Yes?" Came Mrs. Forman's voice. "Steven, are you up?"

"Nurse, he's tryin' to ge-"

Hyde's hand slammed down over her mouth again. He grunted in pain as she bit him again, but held on tight.

"Steven?" Finally, the red light on the button went off, and Hyde knew she was making her way down from the nurse's station.

Disgustedly, he practically threw the girl off of him.

"Thanks, you crazy psycho," He spat, glancing at his hand. Damn, she'd actually drew blood.

"It's your own fault," She said smugly, sitting back in the chair. "You're not supposed to be up and moving until the doctor tells you you can."

"Yeah, well, you just blew my chance of gettin' out of here without somebody noticing me."

"Good."

"Bitch."

"Dick," She threw back.

"Oh, shut up. Seriously, isn't there somebody else you can go bother?"

Her retort was cut off by Mrs. Forman entering the room.

"Oh, Steven! You're finally awake!" She cried, rushing over to hug him. "We were so worried!"

"Yeah, uh, Mrs. Forman, you're crushing me," He wheezed, gentling trying to loosen her grip with one hand.

"Oh! Oh, sorry, Steven. I'm just so glad to see you finally awake. How're you feeling?" She asked, teary-eyed. Hyde frowned as Jackie slide out of the room, sticking her tongue out at him as she closed the door.

"Sore as hell. What do you mean, 'finally' see me awake?" He asked suspiciously, putting the little brat out of his mind. "How long I been here?"

"Almost five days now, honey."

Hyde's eyes bunged out of his head. "Five days? Edna's gonna kick my ass," He muttered, throwing his feet over the side of the bed again. "Where's my clothes?"

"Steven, you lay back down this instant, you hear me? I'll have them restrain you if you won't lay there and behave," Mrs. Forman threatened.

Then she winced.

And Hyde knew she knew.

_Oh._

Oh _shit._

"Uh... uh, where's Edna?" He asked nervously, not moving from where he sat.

"Steven, honey... she... Well, we're pretty sure her and her boyfriend dropped you off here. And nobody's seen them, or been able to get a hold of them since."

"So uh... what's gonna happen to me?"

A huge smile plastered itself on her face. And even though she still had that sad look in her eye, he could tell that she was actually excited about what she had to tell him.

"Well, Dr. Alvarez talked to Social Services, and they've temporarily given us custody of you. So you get to come live with us."

"Temporarily though."

"Oh, that's just until we can find Edna. You're gonna stay with us for quite a while," She said, still smiling.

Hyde tried to force himself to smile back. But he couldn't.

She _knew_.

Had she told Red? Or shit, worse still, had she told Eric or Donna?

"Steven, you need to lay back down. You – Where's your IV?" She asked sternly, hands on her hips.

"Uh... I might've... accidentally... kinda... tore it out," He mumbled, giving her a sheepish smile.

"Steven, you get your little behind back up on that bed. Just look at that, you did tear it out, didn't you? Oh, I swear: you're just as bad as Red is. Now you sit back, lay still, watch some TV, and I'll get you some pudding," She said, winking at him as she put the IV back in, and handed him the TV remote.

"They serve pudding here?"

"I brought it from home. Been saving it in the fridge here for you," She said with a smile.

Hyde managed to return the gesture. "Thanks, Mrs. Forman. You're the best."

She patted his hand. "It's nothing, Steven. Don't worry about it. We'll get you out of here soon, get you back home with us, and we'll get you eating right. Get some meat on those bones." She forced her tone to be jovial, but he could tell.

She knew.

And that was all she could see when she looked at him.

* * *

End Note: Yes, there will be more Jackie in the next chapter.


	12. Always A Part Of Me

A/N: YAY for updates! But, I have to point something out peeps: while yes, I did take a month off to spend some time with my grandparents, I'm usually pretty quick with the updates, right? (the correct answer, is 'Yes, oh great one, you are perfect :D) but seriously, I try to do the best I can, if I don't update in a while, there is a good reason, so please refrain from reviews such as, 'UPDATE ALREADY!'. Because then you make me feel guilty like I have to get a chapter every day, then my other fanfics fall behind, and then those fans come and kill me, then nobody gets any stories, and I can't write anymore, so we all lose, right? Right. Anyways, sorry for this bit of randomness... Just some random thoughts I had...

* * *

Hyde grimaced. Day two in the hospital (well, technically seven), and he was already bored enough to throw himself out the window. Donna, Eric, and Kelso were all in school, and only allowed to visit for an hour by the time they got out of school, since visiting hours ended at five. But he didn't complain too much about that.

His three best friends all had different responses for him when they first saw him. Kelso was -in typical fashion- still Kelso, and still an idiot, blabbering on about some stupid school dance. So he didn't mind Kelso too much.

But Eric and Donna... Yeah, he wouldn't lie, _that_ was a little awkward. Eric refused to talk about it, or anything related to it, apparently pretending that magic fairies had beat the ever loving tar out of Hyde and put him in the hospital. Any mention of Edna, and Forman would storm out of the room.

Donna went the complete opposite. Always talking about Hyde's feelings, and asking him questions, and 'why this?', and 'why that?'.

So all in all, he didn't mind to overly much that his friends didn't get to stay for too long.

But it did leave him with twenty-three hours to sit and stare at the blank walls.

He'd tried watching TV. But it didn't appeal to him. He'd never been one to just sit and do nothing.

He wondered if part of the problem was his detox. How much coke had he done in the days leading up to his hospital stay? Heroin? Definitely a lot of pot, that was for sure.

Then he had a scary thought: how long had he been unconscious before Edna and Curt had brought him to the hospital? Had they fed him pain killers before finally rushing him to the ER? It wouldn't be the first time; last year, when Curt had broken his arm, the two adults had kept Hyde so doped up on Vicodin that he couldn't even remember _how_ the older man had broken his arm.

What day was it? He knew how long he'd been in the hospital, but he'd never been one to keep track of the date; there was the school week, which sucked, and the weekend, which sucked worse. No reason to keep track of what day it was.

He pushed the call button beside the bed. After a few seconds, a pleasant female voice -not Mrs. Forman, Mr. Forman had finally forced her home for a full day's sleep after spending thirty two hours straight at the hospital- answered, "Yes?"

"Uh... Yeah, sorry, I uh... Not to bother you, I was just wondering what day it was?" He sputtered nervously.

"It's February 17th," The voice responded kindly.

"Um... Like... Uh, what day of the uh... of the week?"

"Oh. Wednesday."

"Oh. Thanks," Hyde said, his tongue feeling like it weighed ten pounds.

Somewhere close to three days. Hyde wasn't sure when Curt had gotten home, but it must have been some time late Saturday night, or early Sunday morning. They hadn't taken him to the hospital until noon Wednesday.

Three fucking days. They'd probably left him chained to the stupid pipe that whole time, with a broken arm, broken ankle, three broken ribs, and the punctured lung. They'd left him tied to the fucking pipe for three days, while he slowly bled out; slowly suffocated on his own blood.

He glanced down at the gauze wrapped around his right wrist. He couldn't remember, but from what the doctor had told him, he'd put up a hell of a fight at some point. He'd sprained his wrist, and nearly bled out from the damage he'd done to his wrist trying to pull himself free.

All in all -knowing what he knew- it was a miracle he'd survived. They'd had to give him three blood transfusions before he was stabilized. That hadn't really occurred to him before, but now, that meant a little bit more to him.

Three transfusions. Which had to be enough to replace the blood he'd lost from his punctured lung, from his wrist, his arm (where the bone had broken the skin), and according to the doctor... down there.

Shit. Three days. There was probably an inch of blood coating the floor of his bedroom.

Hyde was startled out of his musings by a knock on the door.

"Yeah?" He called out roughly, sitting up, and swinging his feet over the edge of the bed.

"Can I come in?" Came a cultured sounding voice.

"Uh... yeah?"

Hyde felt his mouth fall open at the tall, leggy blonde woman who walked through the door.

"Steven Hyde?" She asked, smiling at him.

Hyde nodded, feeling like his heart might just stop. She was looking for him? Hot damn. That almost made the whole hospital trip worth it.

"Hi there, Steven. My name's Dr. McIntyre. I'm a psychiatrist here with the hospital."

He couldn't get ride of the stupid grin on his face as he said, "Uh... sure. What's a psychiatrist?"

"Like a counselor. But with more degrees," She said with a conspiratorial smile as she sat in the chair next to the bed. "I'm a glorified shrink."

Hyde forced the smile to remain on his face, even as he prepared himself for the verbal sparring that would be sure to come. "Oh. So why are you here?"

"Just to talk. Find out some things about you. Make sure you're okay mentally as well as physically before we let you out of here."

He couldn't help but snort, before he pushed down against the bed with his good arm, heaving himself out of bed. "Oh yeah, lady; I'm just ducky," He muttered, limping over to the chair on the other side of the room.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that?"

"I just said oh. So, you married?"

She smiled gently at him. "No. Not married, no kids."

"Wanna go on a date when I get outta here?"

She laughed. "You're about fifteen years too young, Steven."

Hyde forced himself not to fidget, as he said, "Call me Hyde."

Dr. McIntyre scribbled something in her notebook, before turning her attention back to him. "Why's that?"

"Why's what?"

"Why do you go by your last name?"

Hyde glared, but kept the smile on his face. "Why don't you?"


	13. You Shattered Every Piece Of Me

A/N: Ok, guys, firstly sorry about lack of updates. Had a slight accident on the staircase, and broke my arm. And in case none of you have ever had a broken arm before... IT SUCKS. Really hard to type. So I apologize for any grammatical errors, lack of capitalization, etc... I kind of let OpenOffice handle all the little details, because it was taking way to long trying to hit the shift key and the 'Y' key one handed. Not to mention, do you have any idea how annoying it is to go from 92 wpm to like ten?

Anyways, I apologize that this chapter is a little rough. I will go over it and redo it and smooth it out within the next few weeks, but for right now, I just wanted to get it posted. : /

* * *

Hyde barely suppressed a grimace as the woman made herself comfortable in the chair next to the bed, and indicated for him to sit.

"Hey, you wanna make me more comfortable? Tell me where my clothes are, so I know you ain't lookin' at my ass," Hyde said with a cocky grin, glancing down at the hospital gown they made him wear. "Come on, what's it gonna hurt? Just a pair of pants, huh? Obviously if I can walk around, a pair of pants ain't gonna hurt anything, right? I'll even leave my shirt off, just for you."

The woman smiled in a matronly sort of way, and Hyde instantly decided the look was all wrong for her. She was way to cute to look like a mother.

"Well... let me call a nurse and ask," She said finally, after a few moments of thought.

Five minutes later, Hyde limped out of the bathroom in a pair of Eric's straight leg jeans Mrs. Forman had brought for him. They were uncomfortable as hell (how did Forman walk in the damn thing, he felt like they were cutting the circulation off his feet), but they were better than the hospital gown.

He smiled darkly at the gasp from Dr. McIntyre, knowing she was staring at his scarred torso.

_Stupid bitch. You think you were just dealin' with some stupid punk makin' up __stories? _He thought, with more than a hint of satisfaction. _Think this was gonna be another 'oh my mommy spanked me' story? Hah. Eat your heart out, bimbo._

He slouched in the chair as best he could with his arm, and the pain from his ribs, plastering a Cheshire cat grin on his face. "So. What did you wanna talk about?" He asked lazily.

"Well... I'd like to talk about how you ended up here. How you received the injuries you had when you arrived here. Who gave you the injuries. Things like that. If you're comfortable talking about it?"

"No, I'm not comfortable talkin' about it. Doesn't really change anything, does it?" He sighed dramatically as he leaned forward in the chair. "Look, Dr. McIntyre, you seem like a nice lady, so let me save us both some time, a'ight? You're gonna ask me about my home life. I'm gonna refuse to answer your questions. You're gonna ask me about my ma. I'm not gonna answer. You're gonna ask me about the Formans, and all the calls they've placed to CPS. I'm not gonna comment. You might ask me about my ma's boyfriends, or what school's like for me. I'm gonna crack a joke about something stupid somebody did in high school, or come up with a story about how one of my ma's boyfriend took me to a baseball game when I was a kid. You're gonna get frustrated, and maybe lash out, ask me something that's supposed to make me cry, make me angry, maybe shock me a little bit. Or you might say something to try and make me feel guilty, or like an idiot for not talking, or you might even bring up the Formans, and ask me how they feel about all this.

"But none of it's gonna matter. 'Cause within half an hour, maybe an hour tops, you're gonna walk out that door, frustrated and angry, knowin' no more than you did when you came in. And it's gonna leave me pissed off, irritated, and annoyed for the rest of the day. So why don't we just skip all that, and you can leave now, and we'll both have a relatively decent day?"

At the end of his speech, he sat back in the chair, the relaxed, amused feeling from before giving way to anxiety, and tension as McIntyre stared for a few moments, before giving a sad shake of her head.

"Sorry, Steven. I can't do that. So. Let's start with your father. How long ago did he leave you and your mother?"

Rolling his eyes, Steven replied, "Hey, do you know that table salt isn't actually sodium? It's sodium chloride."

An hour later, just like Hyde had predicted, Dr. McIntyre left the room, clearly frustrated.

He shrugged to himself as the door closed, and he heaved himself out of the chair. He'd warned her. Wasn't his fault she didn't listen.

"Hey! Hyde!"

Hyde spun around. "Donna? What the hell are you doin' here?" He demanded, giving his best friend a hug. "School let out early?"

She grinned as she returned the hug. "Nah. I ditched. Wanted to spend more than twenty minutes with you. And wanted to spend some time with you alone."

Hyde gave her a cheeky smile. "Oh really? Oh my, what would Bob say? Donna wanting to spend time... aloooooonnnnneee... with big bad Hyde," He teased.

She swatted his good arm, laughing as she retorted, "Shut up, stupid dillhole."

"Oh, Donna, that hurts," He fake pouted. "Here I am, in the hospital already, and you're beatin' me up."

"Ugh, you're impossible!"

The two kids laughed as they made themselves comfortable on the edge of the bed. An awkward silence followed.

After a few minutes, Donna finally cleared her throat, and asked, "So... uh, when they lettin' you outta here?"

Hyde shrugged. "Dunno. Not that it's gonna make a huge difference. Mrs. Forman probably won't let me outta the house anyways."

"Oh, yeah, Eric told me about that. That Kitty and Red got temporary custody or something like that."

"Yeah. It's just until somebody finds Edna. Then it'll be back to the ol' drawing board."

He wasn't expecting the solid punch Donna delivered to his arm, or the way she jumped off the bed, pacing angrily.

"You stupid, stupid... Dammit, Hyde, why do you keep going back?" She yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. "Why don't you just tell somebody what's going on, so you can get outta that hellhole?"

"Hey, that hellhole is my freakin' home, alright? Just let it go," Hyde snapped, standing and getting in her face.

"Oh yeah, real great home, Hyde. Where Edna beats the ever loving crap outta you. Where she burns you with cigarettes, or handcuffs you to things." At Hyde's wild-eyed stare, she rolled her eyes. "Oh Jesus, don't tell me you actually thought no one realized? God, you can't be that stupid. We all knew what was goin' on. The only thing I didn't know was about the se-" She cut off abruptly, but it was useless.

Hyde wasn't even aware that he was moving until he had Donna pinned to the wall. Even with her added height, he seemed to be glaring down at her.

"You don't know shit, Pinciotti. You understand me? You don't know shit," He said quietly, barely controlled rage quivering in his voice.

"Steven, I-"

"Get out, Donna," He seethed, letting go of her, and pushing her towards the door.

"Hyde, I di-"

"Get the fuck out!" He screamed, throwing the chair at her. "Get out! I hate you! Just go!"

He was dimly aware of Donna scrambling to the door, as he threw everything that wasn't nailed down at her. He barely registered the two orderlies coming in.

All he knew, was that were two strange men grabbing him, trying to restrain him.

Donna watched, tears streaming down her face, as Hyde struggled violently against the two orderlies who were trying to keep him from hurting himself.

"Stop! Don't! Ma! Please, ma, I'll be good! Don't let 'em take me, ma, please! I swear, ma! Ma! Don't fuckin' touch me! Ma! Ma, help me! Please, ma, please!" He screamed.

Finally, one of the nurse's managed to get close enough to stick him with a needle full of some sort of sedative, and Hyde's frantic struggles slowed, his eyes fighting to stay open.

"Please. Don't let 'em hurt me, ma," He whispered.

Donna ran, unable to bear the sight anymore.


	14. With Your Blood On My Hands

A/N: Ok, so. Sorry this took so long, but I've been hammering away on the last chapter for 'A Casualty Rerun'. Although I don't know why, seeing as how I only got three reviews for the newest chapter... Which kinda pissed me off a bit, I won't lie... But anyways, doesn't really matter, different fan set, so... Yeah. Anyways. I'm not sure how long this story is going to be before I cut it off, and move to the sequel instead of posting forty chapters in this one. Probably another four or five chapters, then we'll move on to the sequel. No worries, I've got this whole thing planned out. Easily another forty chapters coming, whether it's on this story, or as a sequel. So fear not, all questions will be answered!

... But feel free to ask anyways, because I love reviews. :D

* * *

Donna wasn't sure if she actually wanted to do it.

Hell, who was she kidding? If Mr. Forman hadn't threatened to break her legs, and chop off her hair while she was sleeping, Donna wouldn't have gone back to the hospital. Wasn't sure if she'd ever actually talk to Hyde again.

She wasn't mad at Hyde; that wasn't the problem. She knew that Hyde hadn't meant to attack her; Mrs. Forman had told her Hyde didn't _remember _attacking her.

The problem was that look in Hyde's eyes as he lost control. The begging, pleading note to his voice as he called out to his mother to protect him.

That wasn't her Hyde. Her Hyde, who was strong, brave, resilient, care-free, and -above all else- unshakable. Zen, as he liked to call it.

He'd explained it to her about a year ago. Zen, he had said, was like a moat, filled with water. He was the castle inside the moat. Nothing outside the moat could cross. Nothing could affect him. He was impenetrable behind his Zen.

But he wasn't. And that scared her beyond belief.

She'd never seen that side of Hyde. The side that looked like a scared little boy. She'd seen angry Hyde, joking Hyde, and aloof Hyde, but never scared Hyde.

"Hey! Yeah, you! Gigantor!"

Donna was pulled out of her thoughts by what looked to be a miniature, black-haired Barbie Doll standing angrily in her way.

"Excuse me?" Donna said, insulted. "Did you just call me 'Gigantor'?"

"Yeah, I did. What the hell are you doin' back here?"

"Um... Visiting a friend. Didn't know I needed the pretty princess's permission for that," Donna responded huffily.

"Well you do. You really upset Steven last time you were here. And then he doesn't get any visitors other than Mrs. Forman and her grumpy husband for a week because of you. And _now _you wanna go see him? Yeah, don't think so. Ain't happenin', back off, and go away." As the girl spun around, and trounced back towards Hyde's room, she added, "And make sure the door hits you in the ass on the way out."

Donna rolled her eyes, and went after the girl.

"Hey, I don't know who the hell you think you are," Donna started angrily, "But I'm Hyde's best friend. I've never even met you, you little psycho bitch. So _you _back off."

Donna nearly tripped over the girl, as the pygmy stopped short, spinning around, and pointing her neatly manicured finger in Donna's face.

"Who do I think_ I _am? I think _I'm_ the only one who's been there for him for the past week. I think _I'm _the only company he's had. I think _you're _the one who sent him over the edge, and then you run away like a baby, and ignore him because you didn't like the reaction you got. Well, tough luck, Big Foot. Go find somebody else's heart to stomp on. Otherwise I swear to God, I'll rip _yours _out, and plaster your darkest secrets, and deepest fears all over the school, Donna Pinciotti."

Donna froze, her mouth agape, before she finally managed to find her voice. "Why the hell have you taken such an interest, Burkhart? Yeah, I know you. I know your the queen bitch. The one who puts down anyone whose parents don't make a six figure income every year. So why the hell do you care about a boy whose parents beat the hell outta him, and send him to school in ratty clothes they find on the street? Shouldn't he be in your 'scumbag' list?"

The smack made her ears ring, as Burkhart's hand hit her so hard her head bounced off the porcelain tiles on the wall.

"Don't you dare say things like that, do you understand me?" Burkhart screeched, her voice sending more stabs of pain through Donna's already pounding head. "You little... you little... Ugh!" With that, she turned on her heel, and stomped off down the hall.

Donna couldn't even find the nerve to follow the girl, to hit her back. Instead she slunk back to the waiting room, unsure of what to do.

* * *

Hyde was impatient. Jackie had told him she was just going to get him a cup of coffee (on the sly of course, none of the nurses would actually let him have coffee), but that had been almost twenty minutes ago.

Finally, after another ten minutes, she came in, carrying two large cups of coffee in her small, petite hands.

"Since when do you drink coffee?" Hyde asked with a grin as she handed him one cup, and took a sip of her own.

She shrugged. "I don't know. Guess I want to see what all the fuss is about. Besides, I heard it can calm you down."

Hyde glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Calm you down? Coffee? Besides, why would she need to calm down?

But then he noticed. Her mismatched eyes were flashing. Her face was red. And she had a broken nail.

"Jesus, you walk into a war zone out there or something?"

She gave him an aloof look. "Or something. How's the coffee?"

Hyde grinned again, as he shrugged with one shoulder. "As good as it ever is. Can't expect much with public coffee. I swear, when I get outta here, the first thing I'm doin' is makin' me a good cup of Columbian Brew at Forman's house."

Jackie's gaze turned angry again, even as her facial expression went blank. "So you're goin' to the Formans after you get out?"

"Yeah. Mrs. Forman said they got a set of bunk beds set up in Eric's room for me. Hell, Red even told me I can have the top bunk, and if Eric doesn't like it, Red'll make him sleep in the garage," He said with a cheeky grin.

"And what about... that girl?"

Hyde shifted uncomfortably. "Who, Donna? Yeah... uh, I don't know what's going on. She hasn't even tried to see me. Probably doesn't want to after... well, you know."

"You like her, don't you?"

"What? No! Of course not! She's just my best friend! That's it!" Hyde said, but he could feel his cheeks turning red.

"Oh yeah, some best friend. You know, you could do a lot better than her."

"Oh, someone like you?" He said, trying to get his mental balance again.

Jackie shook her head. "No. I'm no good for you either."


	15. Lost Soul In The Time Of Need

A/N: Hey guys, sorry the update took so long, had SERIOUS writer's block. But I fixed it, so... Here's the next chapter! Lol. I'm hoping to have a few more up this weekend, but eh... we'll see. Thanks for reading, reviews greatly appreciated!

PS: I know this chapter isn't great, but it's just to get me over my writer's block.

* * *

"Steven? You have a visitor. Says she's your aunt?"

Hyde looked over at Mrs. Forman, who was staring at him suspiciously. He forced himself to smile, as he said, "Oh, yeah. Blonde, short, green eyes? That's my Aunt Tammy."

Mrs. Forman nodded, less suspicious, but still obviously not buying it. "You want me to send her in, or tell her to come back tomorrow?"

"Nah, send her in. I'd like to see her."

A few minutes later, Mrs. Forman lead Tamra in.

"Now, you only have about twenty minutes," Mrs. Forman said sternly. "Steven needs his rest. Okay?"

Tamra nodded shyly, sitting down in the chair nervously as Mrs. Forman left.

"Nice shiner, Tammy," Hyde said quietly, to break the silence.

Instantly, Tamra's hand shot up to her swollen eye. "Yeah. Ronny came home early, and dinner wasn't done," She said ruefully. "But it wasn't too bad. How're you doin'?"

Hyde shrugged. "Been worse. Think the doctors are panicking over nothin'."

"Hyde... you weren't... I mean, it wasn't Ronny... I... Jesus, tell me I didn't send you home like this," She whispered, squeezing his hand gently, tears in her eyes.

Hyde shook his head. "Nah. This was mostly Curt. No worries."

"No!" Tamra's outburst made Hyde jump a little. "No, it's not 'no worries'. That nurse said you could have died, Hyde! And I... I knew what was goin' on... And I never said anything... Shit, Hyde, this is all my fault," She sobbed.

"Hey, this isn't nobody's fault but Curt and Edna, okay? I never asked for anyone to save me. You didn't do anything, Tammy. Hell, you've been better to me than my own ma," Hyde said, trying to get a laugh.

But Tammy only sobbed harder. "That doesn't take much, Hyde. And you shouldn't have to ask... I... I was just... I was selfish. He took it out on you, and he left me alone. I sacrificed a thirteen year old to save myself. What kind of person am I?"

"Tammy. Hey, Tamra! Look at me!" When the young woman looked up at him, Hyde continued, "You did what you had to, Tammy. You've got two kids of your own to look after. Erica and Ben need you. Besides, Ronny and me go back way further than you. My dad started using me as payment back when I was four. Three years before you even knew that asshole existed, okay? This isn't your fault. You and me both know he would have beaten you bloody if you'd tried to step in."

Tamra carefully wiped the tears out of her eyes as she avoided looking at Hyde. "I know. It doesn't make it right though, Hyde. I'm still partially responsible for you being here."

"No, you ain't. I take care of myself, Tammy," Hyde said firmly, before switching gears. "How're the kids doin'?"

"I sent 'em to their grandmother's for awhile. Ronny's been... Well, he's been real upset that you ain't been around."

Hyde snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure. Tammy, listen to me: You've gotta get out. You need to take the kids, and go. Far. Hell, go to Florida. Sunny year round, beaches... It's perfect."

Tamra shook her head sadly. "I can't leave him, Hyde. He loves Erica and Ben, and... well, he takes care of us."

"Oh yeah, he takes care of you just great. That's why you've got the mother of all black eyes. Besides, you think he's just gonna let it go, now that I'm gone?" He waved his hand as Tamra opened her mouth. "Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about, Tammy. You think he's gonna give up, and just go back to sex with you? Ain't gonna happen. Sooner or later, he'll find somebody to take my place. Especially when he's got a perfect toy livin' right there under his own roof."

Tamra gasped. "He wouldn't... I mean, Ben is his _son_. He wouldn't do that."

Hyde raised one eyebrow. "Really? He wouldn't do that? Let's see... Was he spending extra time with Ben before you shipped him off to Grandma's house? Buying him little things, talkin' to him more? Yeah, that's what I thought. Get him out, Tammy. You need to get those kids away from him."

"But they _are_-"

"No. Not for the week, or the month. Permanently. 'Cause he isn't gonna stop. Ever. If it's not me, it'll be Ben. It's convenient, and he's closer in age to what Ronny wants anyways. You want your kid to end up here, Tamra? Lyin' in a hospital bed, half torn to hell? A drug addicted hustler? 'Cause that's where he'll be if you don't get him away from Ronny."


	16. The Innocence of Our Hearts

A/N: Sorry this took so long, and more sorry that it's so short... But I haven't had much inspiration lately, which is part of the reason I just put a poll up to get rid of two stories... Trying to work on too much at one time. Add that to the fact that I'm moving in a week... Yeah, things have been a little hectic. Anyways, here's the next chapter, and I'll really try to make the next one longer, I promise.

* * *

"Steven? You still awake, honey?"

"Yeah, I'm awake, Mrs. Forman," Hyde said slowly, not looking at her. "What's up?"

He grimaced at the sad smile on her face, as she sat down next to him on the bed.

"Steven... The nurses said you weren't sleeping well. They also said you weren't eating. Dr. McIntyre said you wouldn't speak to her. What's going on?"

Hyde sighed. "Mrs. Forman... no offense, but I don't wanna talk about it. I'm fine, I swear. I just wanna get outta here."

"Honey, you're not fine. You've lost nine pounds in six days. You hardly ever sleep, and when you do, you toss and turn all night. You're so wound up, you've nearly ground your teeth apart. You need to talk to someone, Steven. You can't keep it all inside like this, it's gonna eat you up. You have to talk about it."

Steven shook his head, a small, sad smile on his face. "No, I don't, Mrs. Forman."

"But, Steven, it would help you," Mrs. Forman said with tears in her eyes, as she laid her hand on top of Hyde's. "It would make you feel better."

Hyde pulled away sharply. "Yeah, somehow I don't think spillin' my guts to some complete stranger is gonna make me feel better. Thanks for the suggestion, though."

"Steven, please," The older woman pleaded. "You need help."

"And just how the hell is that supposed to help me?" Hyde asked quietly. "Talkin' about things I don't even wanna think about?

"Supposed to make me 'feel better' if I tell a stranger that I've lost track of how many people bud or Edna have sold me to? Gonna 'help me' if I tell you that Bud thought I was only worth thirty dollars worth of cocaine the first time he sold me?

"And how's it gonna make you feel when I tell you how Edna used to chain me to the radiator in my bedroom as a party favor for her friends? What're you gonna think of me if I tell you that Edna's boyfriend Donny liked to tie me up, and rape me with a baseball bat?

"Still gonna want me around your family if I tell you that I regularly give two of my teachers blow jobs to keep them from calling Edna, and getting me in trouble? Telling her what an idiot I am?"

Kitty felt her heart shatter a little more with every revelation Steven told her. Not just because of the horrible abuse he had gone through (although that was enough to give her nightmares), but also at what he thought her reaction would be.

Although his tone had stayed it's same, quiet pitch, more and more despair had crept into his voice with each word he said, until his voice finally broke.

"What're you gonna do when I tell you that Curt... that Curt... Days... Three days... To the pipe... Curt... he... Three days..."

Kitty couldn't bear any more. She pulled him into a tight embrace, rubbing his back soothingly as the small, thin boy began sobbing.

"Oh, Steven. It wasn't your fault, honey. You did what you had to do to survive. I don't think any less of you. You're a good boy, Steven, and none of this was your fault."

Steven only sobbed harder in her arms, clinging to her tightly, as if she was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

After a few moments, she heard him whisper something into her shoulder.

"What honey?"

"Why're you so good to me? Why don't you hate me?"

"Oh, Steven, honey! I could never hate you!"

"You should," He mumbled. "I deserve it."

She pulled him off her shoulder, and stared him in the eye. "You listen to me, Steven James Hyde, and you listen good. You didn't deserve any of that. None of it was your fault, and nobody blames you for any of it. No matter what, I could never hate you, honey, you understand me?"

"But you should," Steven cried angrily. "I'm just a... a stupid, used up, dumb whore!"

"No, you're not, Steven. You're a strong, capable, intelligent young man, whose survived more than most adults could have."

"If I'm so capable, so great... Why does Edna hate me?"

The hurt look in his eyes brought more tears to Kitty's eyes. "Honey... It has nothing to do with you. Edna's just... she's sick in the head, you know that. You have nothing to do with it. You can't control what she does."


	17. Taste of My Reality

A/N: Ok, folks, I'm officially back! I've got more stories and chapters ready, it's just a matter of time to copy them out of my notebooks and type them on the computer. I just finished moving, and (mostly) unpacking, so it will probably take me til this weekend to get them all up.

Warning: This is a disturbing chapter, dealing with sexual abuse. You have been warned!

* * *

Kitty frowned as she stared up at the run down, two-story house. She stood on the dilapidated front porch of the house Steven had once lived in with Curt and Edna, trying to force herself to actually enter the building.

She didn't want to be there, much less actually go in the house. But Steven had asked her to get some of his personal items, and she couldn't refuse, not when he had that sad, pleading look in his eyes.

So there she was, she thought glumly. She had to do it.

The door was unlocked –which didn't surprise her- and when she opened it, a multitude of smells assailed her, the strongest being the metallic, coppery smell of blood. Kitty choked back the vomit that rose at the thought of it being Steven's blood. Mildew, cigarettes, and weed mixed to give the house a rotten, old smell.

The sight was worse. Dried puke was almost everywhere, needles littered about, and what looked like a fine layer of white dust coating most flat surfaces. Furniture was broken, or falling apart, and dirty, putrid underclothes were scattered everywhere.

_Just get the stuff, and leave,_ Kitty told herself. That was it. In and out.

She carefully picked her way around the garbage, mountains of clothes, and puke and entered the bedroom at the rear of the living room, just as Steven had told her.

Opening the door, she couldn't stop herself from puking.

_Blood. Oh God, the blood. It was __**everywhere**__._

_Find the box, and the manila envelope. Find them, get out, and never come back. Maybe burn the house down._

Gingerly, trying desperately –_futilely_- to avoid stepping in the blood –_God, Steven's blood_- she entered the room.

Underneath the mattress that sat on the floor, and in the closet, under the floor boards. If they were still there, that's where they'd be, Steven had told her.

She reached under the mattress carefully, trying not to think of the blood trail that lead from the far wall to the bed, as she dug around until her hands rested on the envelope. She pulled it out, and took a deep breath as she headed for the closet.

One down, one to go.

She found the loose floorboard relatively easy, and pulled out the small, metallic box fairly quickly.

That should have been it. She should have left, shouldn't have let herself get distracted.

But she didn't leave. She did let herself get distracted.

On the opposite side of the closet wall sat five boxes, stacked neatly on top of each other; perhaps that was what caught her eye, the fact that these boxes alone looked like someone had cared for them, or at the very least, cared not to disturb them.

But it could have been the labels on the boxes. 'Movies/ Pictures, Steven' was the title, with dates ranging from 1967 to the current 1972, scrawled in chicken scratch handwriting across the top left hand side of each box.

Even as she reached for the first box, Kitty knew something wasn't right. Edna wasn't the type to take home movies; well, at least not of Steven. And she didn't think she'd ever saw Edna with a camera.

Add to that that Steven hated having his picture taking. He'd disappear as soon as Kitty announced that she was taking pictures. If she didn't announce, Steven would just storm out of the room as soon as he saw the camera.

_So why would there be five boxes worth of pictures and movies in his closet?_

But she ignored her misgivings, and lugged the largest box –marked 1971 –out into the living room.

The first thing she saw was the movies. At first glance, there appeared to be twenty five or so U-Matic Video Cassette tapes, which shocked her. She'd heard of the U-Matics before –had seen them in Sears as a matter of fact –but nobody she knew actually owned one. They were incredibly expensive, costing $279.99 for the recorder and player, and almost twenty dollars per video cassette. Most people still used the Super 8 Film Reel recorders for their home movies. Underneath the movies is a small shoe box.

She pulled out the first cassette, and carefully kneeled down in front of the TV, pushing the cassette tape into the U-Matic player, noting the date. December 23rd, 1971. Five months ago.

_It's a brightly lit room. Two men wait in the far corner from the Video Recorder, talking in whispers._

_From off the left, the sounds of fighting begin. It sounds like all manner of furniture being thrown around. Cussing follows._

_A few minutes later, a man that Kitty dimly recognizes as Curt enters the room, dragging a kicking and struggling Steven behind him._

"_Stop it, you little shit!" Curt roars, punching the small boy in the head, before throwing him bodily across the room._

_Steven skids across the floor for a moment, before slamming into the dresser, smashing his head so hard that blood immediately starts flowing from a large gash in his forehead._

_But Steven doesn't miss a beat, as he scrambles to his feet, and heads for the window._

_Swearing, Curt and the other two men stop him almost immediately, dropping the thin child to the floor with several well-placed punches, then picking him up again, and slamming him against the wall._

_The recorder films silently as the larger of the two strangers wraps his meaty hand around Steven's neck, and slides him up the wall, his hands quickly undoing Steven's pants and _

Kitty stopped the movie, knocking the TV and U-Matic player over in her panic to shut it off.

She ran back into Steven's room, and threw the other boxes open.

_Film reels. Fifteen to twenty in each box._

She tore through the reels, and into the shoe boxes.

_Pictures. Hundreds of pictures. Pictures of Steven._

_Pictures of Steven with men. Chained up, tied down, naked, clothed, on top, hidden underneath a much larger body…_

_Oh God. Oh God, no._

She ripped apart the box marked 1972. Movies marked from a month and a half ago. Pictures from…

Kitty fell to the floor, dropping the pictures as she scrambled out of the bedroom, tripping over clothes and broken furniture in her rush to get out, sobbing hysterically as her stomach dry heaves, throwing herself into her car, and roaring away from the house.

Inside, pictures of a naked, bleeding Steven, chained to a pipe, covered in bruises lay on the floor of the bedroom, dated two and a half weeks ago.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Sorry it took so long for the update, been having some... Car problems. Of the 'backing-into' type problems lol. Been a little busy arguing with the insurance company lol. I just got it taken care of yesterday. I know it's a short chapter, but I'm a little stuck right now. I'm going to take a few days to think about it, but I might start the next series of this story, in a different story, when Steven's living with the Formans. But I want to think about it a little bit before I make a decision.

* * *

Steven cursed under his breath at the large, bulky cast on his arm. All he wanted to do was get dressed, and get the hell out of the damn hospital. But he couldn't figure out how to get the stupid harness off his shoulder.

He'd spent about ten minutes messing with the stupid thing, when Donna walked in.

"Oh… uh… Hi, Donna," He said stupidly, staring for a moment. It was the first time she'd been to see him since the… incident.

"Hi, Hyde. You uh… need some help?"

"Um, yeah, I can't get the stupid harness off," He said slowly, turning around.

Donna gently unbuckled the harness, and helped slide it down his shoulder, then the two stood there awkwardly for a few minutes, before Donna cleared her throat.

"How you doing?"

Hyde shrugged, as he reached for his shirt. "Okay, I guess. Mrs. Forman just left a while ago to get some stuff from my house; I'm goin' home today."

"Any word about your mom?"

"No. The Formans got temporary custody; after six months they're gonna try for permanent custody. They actually wanna adopt me," Hyde said incredulously, still not believing the idea that the Formans really wanted to adopt him.

Donna smiled. "Why wouldn't they? You're a great guy."

Hyde snorted. "Oh yeah, a great guy," He muttered under his breath. But Donna chose to ignore his comment.

"So what's the prognosis? You gonna live?" She asked teasingly.

Hyde sat down, and started trying to put his shirt on as he answered. "Yeah, I'll live. Gotta wear the cast a few more weeks; shouldn't be any permanent damage. It's still a little hard to breath, but the doc said it should get better with time; right now my lung's just workin' overtime tryin' to heal itself."

Donna stepped over to him, and stopped his jerking attempts to get his shirt on. "Stop that!" She admonished. "You're gonna hurt yourself. Here, let me help."

"Damn I can't wait to get this stupid thing off," He grumbled, as Donna tugged his arm through gently.

After pulling his arm through the sleeve, Donna gingerly ran her hands over the ragged, bloody scar that encircled his other wrist. She knew there was a matching one on the other wrist.

Hyde couldn't look at her as he said, "Doc said they're uh… probably gonna be permanent," He mumbled. "Ain't nothin' they can do about it."

"Hyde, I'm sorry," Donna blurted out. She instantly regretted it, as Hyde stood abruptly, and walked to the other side of the room, staring out the window morosely.

"It ain't your fault," He said quietly. "Nothin' to be sorry for."

"I should've… I don't know, Hyde… I should have said something, I guess. And I'm sorry I –"

"Donna, don't," Hyde said firmly. "I don't wanna talk about it, alright? It's not a big deal, so just let it go."

"But –"

"Donna. Please. Just let it go, okay?"

Donna sighed. It wasn't worth the argument that would follow. Besides, he looked so depressed, Donna didn't have the heart to make it worse.

She forced herself to smile. "Well, I know Kelso's looking forward to seeing you. He's grounded; that's why he hasn't been here lately."

A small smile came to Hyde's face. "Oh, God, what'd the King of Morons do now?"

"Put firecrackers underneath his parents' bed. I heard Mr. Kelso nearly shot him, thinking someone was shooting a gun," Donna said laughingly. "Casey said that once he realized what was going on, he almost shot him anyways. Almost gave Mrs. Kelso a heart attack. I guess Mr. Kelso chased him down the street with his belt, wearing nothin' but his underwear."

Hyde actually laughed, and Donna smiled as they sat down.

"Yeah, and wait till you hear what Eric did…"


	19. NOTICE

Hey, everyone… bad news. Life has been hectic lately, and with my son's birthday, my birthday, my husband's birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas all coming up, not gonna any less hectic any time too soon. Plus, I've had some serious writer's block lately anyways… I've tried writing, but everything just comes out crappy, and stiff.

So. After much consideration, and thought, I've decided to take a hiatus. No less than two months, no more than four. I'm sorry to all of my readers and reviewers, and I didn't come to this decision easily. I've struggled with it for quite a while, while at the same time attempting to write, and I've decided that you guys deserve my best, not some crappy, sloppily written, stiff sounding piece of junk I threw up.

I apologize again, but I'm going to make an attempt to write, and finish at least a few stories in that time frame. Hopefully erasing the pressure to post will ease up on the writer's block, and I'll be back to my eerily depressing, torture/angst goodness soon.

I understand if many of you quit reading my stories, or decide not wait for me to come back. I completely understand that, and in all honesty, I would probably do the same thing. But to those of you who decide to wait, I appreciate it, and I promise I won't disappoint any more than I already have.

Thank you,

letmefallasleep


	20. Chapter 20

Okidokie, peeps. I've shortened my hiatus, and decided that I'm going to start the next part of the story. It's called March To The Drums Of The Damned. Check it out. : )


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